


another lost promise of gold

by shadowsong26



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: ...also because context?, Gen, Kind of angsty, Post-ESB, ahsoka and a few other members of the 501st cameo, and rex may not have answers, but he does have some Stories to tell, but probably aren't present enough to tag, but with a ray of hope at the end?, if only because context, luke has Questions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:01:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22042222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowsong26/pseuds/shadowsong26
Summary: Not long after the evacuation of Hoth, Captain Rex finally meets his General’s son, and decides to share a story or two.
Relationships: CT-7567 | Rex & Anakin Skywalker, CT-7567 | Rex & Luke Skywalker
Comments: 51
Kudos: 402
Collections: 2019 Star Wars Secret Santa





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blackdragonhellfire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackdragonhellfire/gifts).



> Secret Santa for blackdragonhellfire--merry ficmas! I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Title comes from [His Hymn](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h6gqoQ7u6W0), by Drew Sarich.

It was just Rex’s luck, really--come through the evacuation of Echo Base perfectly unscathed, only to break his wrist while overseeing hand-to-hand training a few weeks later.

Fortunately, Orellios was on hand to take over for him with no notice--a few years ago, he might’ve just splinted it himself and gone to get checked out after the session was over, but he’d been starting to feel his age lately. Besides, probably best to set a good example for the shinies.

So, he’d left Zeb in charge and made his way over to medical, exchanged a few good-natured insults with the medic on duty, and settled in with a bacta bag tied around the injured arm, to wait for it to do its job.

He wasn’t the only one there, which surprised him--he figured any casualties from the evac had already been discharged.

The other patient was a human kid, early twenties or so, who’d just been fitted with a new hand prosthetic. And there was something vaguely  _ familiar  _ about him, but Rex couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

Fortunately, the stranger looked up and acknowledged him before things got awkward. “Hey,” he said. “I thought everyone from Hoth had already been cleared?”

Rex smiled at him. “Yeah, same here. This is new.” He held up his wrist, which--okay, yeah, probably shouldn’t’ve done that.

“Same,” the kid said. “So, on the one hand, it’s just the two of us in here, which is maybe a little embarrassing. On the other hand, it’s just the two of us in here, which means everyone else is fine?”

“Yeah, that’s a good way of looking at it,” Rex said. “I’ll take it.”

The kid grinned at him, and settled back. “I don’t think we’ve met before?”

“No, I don’t think so,” he said. “I’m Rex. Training officer, these days, mostly.”

“Luke,” he replied. “Skywalker.”

_ …well, that explains that. _

It hadn’t been  _ obvious, _ exactly, but now that he’d given his name, Rex could see the resemblance a little more clearly. The shape of the eyes, the jawline…bits and pieces of the General he’d lost decades ago.

Rex had heard about him, obviously--hard to listen to base gossip  _ without _ hearing about Commander Luke Skywalker, after all--but hadn’t actually come face to face with him before.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he said, when he realized he’d probably been quiet for several seconds. “Sorry I didn’t reach out sooner.”

Not that he’d been  _ avoiding _ him, exactly. Just that…well, their paths had never intersected by chance until now, and there had been a thousand other things to do, and Rex had never gotten around to  _ actively _ seeking him out.

Skywalker gave him a quizzical look--which was a  _ different kind _ of familiar, if slightly less so; Rex felt a slightly aching, hollow amusement at the fact that he would’ve won that bet.

(Not that there had been much doubt as to the General’s feelings--neither he nor the Senator was particularly  _ subtle _ \--but the men had gone back and forth on whether anything had actually  _ happened _ between them.)

“I served under your father, during the Clone War,” he said.

His eyes widened. “Oh,” he said.

“He was…a good General,” Rex said, when Skywalker didn’t say anything else. “Good man. I wish…I wish you could’ve met him.”

Skywalker flexed his prosthetic hand idly. “Yeah,” he said, then cleared his throat. “Did you…did you know him well?”

“Pretty well,” Rex said. “I was his second-in-command, so we spent a fair bit of time together.” He paused. “I…don’t know I can say we were friends, it didn’t work like that, the Jedi and us clones, but…we came close to that, I think. Close as we could.” And even though he’d gotten rid of it before he’d done something irrevocable, the scar on his scalp itched at the thought.

He nodded, still looking down at his hand.

And...maybe Rex shouldn’t have said anything, because, despite being in medical which was generally not a good place to be, their conversation had started out fairly light-hearted. And now Commander Skywalker was...well, about as subtle as his father had been, when it came to not wearing his heart on his sleeve.

But at the same time--how could he  _ not _ say something, now they’d met? How could he ignore the history between them, even if the kid didn’t know any of it?

“I could tell you about him, if you like,” he offered, half-surprising himself as he did. He didn’t talk about the War much--in large part, because there really wasn’t anyone to talk  _ to. _ Wolffe never wanted to; Gregor was--gone; Commander Tano was...he had no idea what had happened to her after Malachor; and most everyone else just…it wasn’t the same. Wouldn’t understand. Even Kanan and Ezra, for all they were Jedi--it was never something he wanted to share with them. Partly because he and Kanan had gotten off on the wrong foot, sure, but partly…he wasn’t sure he could put it into words.

But here was General Skywalker’s kid, sitting across the medbay from him, and…

Yeah. Rex had stories to tell, and it might be nice to share them.

Skywalker looked up at him. “Yeah?”

“Sure,” he said. “I know it’s not the same as meeting him, but…”

He considered that for a moment, then nodded before turning to face Rex. He pulled his legs up into a familiar position, not quite a meditation posture, but something relaxed and close to it, sitting on the bed. “I’d like that,” he said.

Rex leaned back a little, considering which story to tell. Stories highlighting his General’s intensity, his recklessness, his boundless capacity for affection; all the times he’d nearly gotten Rex killed; and all the times he’d  _ saved _ him--and more of the men than most other Generals would’ve. General Skywalker tended to pull off impressive wins against difficult odds, and even so, the casualty figures for the 501st were about average.

And he’d--cared. Not that the other Generals didn’t (most of them, anyway; he  _ still _ had nightmares about Umbara sometimes), but there was a  _ connection _ they’d shared with Skywalker that only a handful of generals had had with their troops. There was a quality to Skywalker that--sure, other battalions were loyal to their Generals, that was bred into them (until it wasn’t), but the fact was, some generals were  _ easier _ to be loyal to than others, whether from a natural flair for command or some less-definable charisma--General Plo, General Ti, General Kenobi, General Windu, to a point--

And Skywalker.

_ Might as well start from the beginning, right? It’s not a bad story, either. _

“The first time I met your father,” Rex started, “he’d just been Knighted, and me and the rest of the 501st had just been sent out from Kamino to the front…”


	2. Chapter 2

“CT-7567, reporting for duty, sir.”

Rex stood at strict attention, his shoulders feeling tighter than they probably should have, waiting for his new General to turn around and acknowledge him.

General Skywalker didn’t leave him waiting long.

“At ease, Captain,” he said, and Rex forced himself to relax. He was grateful, for the moment, that he hadn’t taken his helmet off--which he was technically supposed to, but hopefully Skywalker would forgive the breach in protocol.

But since he’d left it on, it gave him some level of privacy to digest his quick first impressions of his new commander.

He was tall, with probably a few centimeters on Rex if he were out of armor; with spiky dark blond hair. He was wearing what Rex had learned were more or less standard Jedi robes--not that all the Generals wore them; not even among the dozen or so Rex had seen--but dyed several shades darker than any Rex had ever seen. He wore a few pieces of armor, covering his arms and upper chest and back, as well as the front of his boots, and a heavy gauntlet on his right arm.

The first thing he thought was that Skywalker seemed--very young. Not in the literal sense, exactly. Clones aged fast, so Rex figured Skywalker for something around eight to ten years older than he was, at least chronologically, but…

Skywalker seemed a lot like like the clones a generation or two behind him.  _ Almost but not quite _ mature enough to be sent out into active combat.

Then again, Skywalker was a Jedi, and they were different. Despite his overall lack of direct experience with the Generals, Rex already knew that much. It had been drilled into him for as long as he could remember, after all.

Besides, even if Skywalker had only been a General for about as long as Rex had been off Kamino--which was to say, about a week--he  _ had _ seen active combat already. He’d been in the thick of things on Geonosis, according to the rumors Rex had heard. And Rex was full-on  _ shiny, _ still getting used to the parts of the galaxy that weren’t covered by oceans and constant storms.

Experience counted for a  _ lot, _ as far as Rex was concerned, and on top of being a Jedi and everything that meant, Skywalker had that, for sure. Young as he seemed on the surface, his eyes were years too old for his face.

It could’ve been worse. It could’ve been a  _ lot _ worse. Rex’s General was young, but blooded; he would lead the 501st well and for the rest--they could all grow together, in time.

Or so Rex devoutly hoped.

Skywalker sized him up in turn, and Rex wasn’t sure how he felt about what  _ he _ saw--Jedi were hard to read.

_ Maybe I’ll get better at that. _

“You’ve been briefed about our objective?” Skywalker said.

“Broad strokes, sir,” Rex said, grateful that Skywalker had cut the slightly-awkward moment short by turning them back to business.

It seemed straightforward enough, which was probably a good thing for troops and a General who were both new at their jobs--a Seperatist base had been established at the foot of a mountain range, strategically positioned to control the water supply for half the continent. If they could take the base, and the water, they’d both provide some relief to the local communities and establish a better forward position for the full-scale Republic invasion that was being planned for a few days later.

Skywalker nodded and stepped to the side, just a little, silently inviting Rex to come up to the table and study the more detailed terrain map.

“We’re approaching from the east, sir?” Rex guessed. The base was surrounded by a lot of open territory, but the eastern path had patches of scrub forest. Limited cover, sure, but better than any of the other options.

“Exactly,” Skywalker said. “We’ll move out two hours before local dawn, get as close as we can before it gets light and then hopefully the sun at our backs will give us some kind of advantage.”

“Understood, sir,” Rex said. “I’ll make sure the men are ready.”

Skywalker nodded. “Do that, we’ll meet again just before we leave to go over any last-minute changes.”

Rex nodded, and saluted, and turned to go.

“Captain?” Skywalker said.

“Sir?”

Skywalker watched him for a minute, eyes bright with something Rex couldn’t quite identify--nerves, adrenaline...who knew.

But he seemed to have a handle on it, so Rex wasn’t worried.

“We can do this,” he said.

“Of course we can, sir.”

He nodded once. “Go, get ready. The Force will be with us.”

“Sir,” Rex said again and left him there to study his maps some more.

* * *

It wasn’t an easy advance--the Separatist battalion had had time to entrench themselves; on the plus side, Skywalker was mostly able to guide them around the mines buried along their path, but on the other hand, there was even  _ more _ exposure than the maps had indicated.

Still, they knew their business, and they weren’t going to give up. They moved in a slightly ragged line, zigzagging between spots of not-very-good cover, per their orders.

And General Skywalker was in the thick of it, right with them--Rex lost track of him three or four times over those first few hours, and then he’d pop up right where the fighting was thickest, bail out any of the men who were in serious trouble, and then disappear to the next tangle. 

And so, despite everything, meter by meter, they gained ground.

By midmorning, they’d reached the last bit of halfway-decent cover before the Seppie base camp, and Skywalker ordered a brief halt to get his bearings and a more up-to-date read on the tactical situation.

Rex might not have had hands-on experience yet, but he  _ had _ been well-trained, and he knew what to do. Post sentries and snipers to cover their rear, organize a couple of scout troopers to go with the General and take a closer look.

The scouting party didn’t keep them waiting long.

“From here, it looks like our intel is accurate,” Skywalker said. He seemed calm on the surface, like the other Jedi Rex had seen, but there was a subtle tension to his shoulders. Adrenaline of some kind, probably, just like before they’d started; but he had it under control, so Rex wasn’t worried.

On the other hand, he could hear a ‘but’ coming.

He glanced up through the trees at the base; walled with a couple of heavy-duty turret guns, Super Battle Droids stationed strategically…sure, they could take it, but it wouldn’t be easy. And the way it was cut into the mountain behind…

“But we’ve got more blind spots than I like,” the General finished. “So be ready for surprises. We split into three groups--group one stays here to secure our position, and a retreat if it comes to that. Group two, cut through the trees and approach from the north.”

Meaning the approach with the most cover, and, consequently, the side of the encampment with the most visible protection. There’d be some hard fighting to the north.

“And group three?” Rex asked.

“With me,” he said, and flashed a sharp smile. “We’re gonna knock on the front door.”

Meaning, draw fire away from the second group, and hopefully flush out any especially nasty surprises while the others were still looping around. Terrain was too rough for most tanks to be effective, but heavy artillery concealed behind those walls, or in the mountain itself…just a few of the things Rex could think of off the top of his head, if that were  _ his _ base to defend. Battle droids weren’t as smart or creative as living beings, but chances were, they’d come up with at least half of what he had, and maybe a few things he didn’t have the frame of reference to expect.

“Copy that, sir,” Rex said.

“Make the assignments, you know the men better than I do,” Skywalker said. “We move out in half an hour.”

* * *

Group one was the easiest to assign--their medical officer, a few troops that had been slightly wounded in their initial advance but were still fit enough to do  _ some _ fighting, their best sharpshooter, a few others.

Group two was most of everyone else.

Group three, he asked for volunteers.

“This’ll be the most dangerous part,” he informed the others, frankly. “Probably see heavier casualties than the main strike force. But the General will be with us. I want two dozen volunteers to go up there with him.”

He was only slightly surprised to see more volunteers than he needed, including the entire scouting party--especially since he intended to assign  _ himself _ to that group, as well. Which may have been the wrong choice, being as he was the most senior officer after the General, but...well.

Clearly, he wasn’t the only one who’d been impressed by the Jedi’s performance on their earlier march.

He picked the other twenty-three men at random, and went to report to Skywalker that they were ready as soon as he gave the final order.

At first, it all seemed to be going smoothly, according to Skywalker’s plan. The droids in the base fired at them, bringing their artillery to bear on Group Three, just like they’d hoped; and they returned fire and gained ground.

Quickly.

Oh, sure, they  _ fought _ for it, but at the same time…

_ Is it just me,  _ Rex thought, picking off a Super Battle Droid as he came up on the General’s left,  _ or is this a little  _ too _ easy? _

As if answering his thought, he heard Skywalker mutter, “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

And then the ground rumbled beneath their feet, and  _ exploded _ in front of them--Rex heard some of his brothers, closer to the impact than he and Skywalker were--scream; he himself would’ve fallen if something hard hadn’t reached out and grabbed his wrist, tight enough that he felt it creak even through his armor.

“Sorry!” Skywalker said, letting go. “Sorry, not--grip strength, not used to it yet. You good?”

_ …guess that explains the glove, _ Rex thought. He flexed his hand and nodded, and turned back towards the explosion to see--

Not a crater.

Very much  _ not a crater. _

“Kriff,” he hissed, staring up at the massive gun tower; one of three that had risen from where they’d been buried. At least one turbolaser battery on top; half a dozen smaller guns; and a cluster of standard clankers at the base, just  _ waiting _ to spill out and come for them.

“…yeah,” Skywalker said, then dropped flat, yanking Rex down with him as the tower opened fire.

_ How the  _ hell _ are we gonna get past that? _

“Sir?”

Skywalker poked his head up just a little, studying the tower and frowning. “…I’ve got an idea,” he said.

He shifted position and launched to his feet--then half a dozen meters up into the air--leaping in a wide arc and landing in the middle of the emerging droids.

_ What the kriff is he-- _

Rex got up and followed, staying as low as he could and weaving back and forth. The tower couldn’t shoot very fast, but it more than made up for that with the impact of each shot; one landed two meters to his right and the shockwave nearly knocked him over.

But he made it; he fought his way to where the General was already starting to scale the tower and followed him up; tossed a grenade into the cluster of battle droids as he did to buy them some breathing room.

It wasn’t much; there were a  _ lot _ of droids and he only had two pistols and a handful of grenades.

Still, they kept moving, and, over an endless five minutes or so, they climbed the rest of the tower, Skywalker focusing up and Rex covering their rear; he smelled burning plastic when a shot grazed his epaulet just as he reached the top, to find Skywalker dispatching the droid manning the turbolaser battery, then taking a few seconds to study it.

_ Good. Good, disable that, and that’ll make our jobs easier. _

Skywalker made a few quick cuts with his lightsaber, then took a step back to survey his work.

“Sir?” Rex said. He’d been holding off most of the clankers so far, but--

“Time to move,” Skywalker agreed, grimly, shutting off his weapon and joining Rex at the edge of the platform. “…do you trust me?”

“…sir?”

“Because if I’ve done this right,” he said, “we’ve got about thirty seconds until the turbolaser explodes. We need to get far away,  _ fast. _ Which means I’m probably gonna have to throw you.”

“I…right,” Rex said, a little boggled by what that might  _ mean, _ but--young or not, Skywalker was a  _ Jedi, _ with combat experience, and his commanding officer. “Yes, sir. I trust you.”

“Good,” Skywalker said, then braced himself and before Rex knew what was happening, he was flying through the air in a ragged arc, with a couple dozen very confused clankers trying to shoot up at him.

He tucked his head and did his best to hit the ground in a roll and minimize damage from the impact; then lost no time in finding makeshift cover behind a pile of kicked-up earth; debris from when the tower had emerged.

Skywalker landed half a breath behind him, much more gracefully than Rex had managed, and turned back to the tower. “Come on, come on…” he muttered, half under his breath.

Without thinking, Rex reached up and grabbed a handful of the General’s tunic, yanking him back behind the mound a split second before the tower finally went; a scrap of charred metal sailed through the air over them, right where Skywalker’s head had been.

After a beat or two of holding their breath, waiting for the dust to settle, Skywalker cautiously took a look back at what now actually  _ was _ a crater; he made a weird noise, halfway between a giddy laugh and a sigh of relief.

“Bigger explosion than I was expecting,” Rex admitted.

“Yeah,” Skywalker said. “Yeah, that worked--a lot better than I thought it would.”

Somehow, Rex was not all that surprised. He’d known Skywalker less than twelve hours, and yet the fact that his General had made a mad rush at a near-impregnable, never-before-seen piece of heavy artillery with only half a plan, his lightsaber, and hope to help him take it down seemed  _ exactly  _ the kind of thing he’d do.

The fact that Rex had  _ followed him up there, _ on the other hand… _ that _ was new.

And yet--he couldn’t help but feel he’d done  _ exactly  _ the right thing.

“You good, Captain?” Skywalker asked.

“…Rex,” he offered.

Skywalker blinked.

“We, uh,” he said. “Us clones, we--the numbers start feeling weird, after a while, plus they take too long to say, so we sort of…name ourselves. I’m Rex.”

Skywalker took all that in, and then nodded. “Rex, then,” he said. “You all right?”

“Yeah,” he said.  _ Probably feel like one giant bruise tomorrow, but nothing’s broken. _

“Good,” he said, then paused. “…so, that’s one down, two to go.”

Rex winced a little.  _ Day ain’t over yet, _ he reminded himself. “Yes, sir.”

“You ready?”

He shifted position, checked his blasters, and nodded.

Skywalker gave him a crooked, cocky grin. “Then follow me.”

Rex knew Skywalker couldn’t see it through his helmet, but Rex returned the grin anyway; and armed with half a plan, a pair of blasters, and  _ hope, _ followed his General back into the fray.


	3. Chapter 3

The next time Luke saw Captain Rex, he was in a corner of the nearly-deserted officers’ mess, playing sabaac with an Intel captain Luke vaguely recognized from a couple of briefings.

Rex looked up, spotted him, and waved him over. “Commander Skywalker!”

Well, it would be rude not to say hello.

“Hey, good to see you again,” he said.

“Yeah, likewise. You’ve met Captain Kallus?”

“Briefly,” he said, and offered a smile, which Kallus returned with a nod and a brief salute.

“Want to play?” Rex said.

On the one hand, Luke wasn’t on duty and he and Leia weren’t quite ready to head to Tatooine to join Lando and Chewie yet, so he didn’t have anything else he was supposed to be doing. Besides, after the last time…

He couldn’t make sense of it, yet. What Rex had told him and what Ben had told him and what--what _Vader_ had told him. But the story Rex had shared had stuck with him, these past several days, turning over and over in the back of his brain and trying to mesh with everything else he knew.

On the other hand…

“I mean, I’m not very good,” he admitted.

Rex considered that for a moment. “…want to play for money?”

Captain Kallus rolled his eyes and stood up at that. “Either way, I’m afraid I’ll have to bow out. I need to be getting back,” he said. “Same time next week? Zeb should be available to join us, too.”

“Yeah, I’ll be here,” Rex said.

Kallus nodded, then gave Luke another brief salute before turning sharply and heading out of the mess.

Luke took the seat he’d vacated, and watched Rex shuffle the deck with what looked like long-practiced ease. _Wonder if he ever played Han._

Han had been the one who _tried_ to teach him, not long after Yavin, and had been near to declaring Luke a hopeless case when Leia joined them and cleaned him out.

 _“What’s the problem, flyboy?”_ she’d asked. _“Did you forget that I was in the Imperial Senate for years? I_ know _how to gamble.”_

Luke grinned a little at the memory.

“Something funny?” Rex said.

“Oh, not really,” Luke said. “Just...remembering when I learned to play this game. Do you and Captain Kallus play a lot?”

“We try to,” Rex said. “It was Zeb’s idea. Kallus doesn’t have a lot of friends--you know how spies are. Plus, some people hold his past against him.”

“Oh?”

“He’s a defector,” Rex clarified. “Imp for over a decade, then saw the light and joined us a couple years before you did. Stayed undercover for over a year before he had to bail.”

That made sense. Luke didn’t know exactly how many Imperial defectors had joined the Alliance over the years, but he knew there were a few at pretty much every level of skill and seniority. He hadn’t known Captain Kallus was one of them--but, then again, that was probably because he didn’t spend that much time with anyone from Intel. Not enough to make friends, anyway. Spies were sometimes weird about that. Like Rex had said.

“You know, your father wasn’t particularly good at this game, either,” Rex said. “He was a man of many talents, but bluffing was not one of them. Commander Tano was better, but we mostly relied on General Kenobi for that.”

Which was--it hadn’t really occurred to Luke to _ask,_ but of _course_ Rex had known Ben if he’d known his father. Ben hadn’t lied about _that_ part, about them being friends. Luke had known _that,_ just from the way Ben had said it, back in his house on Tatooine.

Still, hearing the name, hearing about all of this from a different perspective was…weird. Struck some chord deep inside him.

And then there was that other name, the one no one had ever mentioned to him before.

_Start there._

“Commander Tano?” he asked.

“Your father’s apprentice,” Rex said. “Ahsoka Tano. They were close, almost like siblings--maybe because they were so close in age. I think he was only five or six years older than her?”

...okay, that was something to add to the long list of questions Luke planned on asking Ben, if he could ever reach him again.

“What was she like?” Luke asked.

“Clever, and brave,” Rex said. “The two of them were well-matched. Both of ‘em were reckless and determined and…easy. To be loyal to, I mean. Could never fault either of ‘em for courage, or for caring about us or the other people around us. Common sense, sometimes, and they egged each other on more than they should.”

“Did Ben--did General Kenobi rein them in at all?”

“Sometimes,” he said. “But more often, he was right there with them. Or buying time for them to sneak around and blow something up, or taking advantage of any chaos they created to achieve some other objective.” He considered for a minute. _“They_ were well-matched, too. The HoloNet called the Generals The Team, and there was a damn good reason for it. General Kenobi the Negotiator, and General Skywalker the Hero with No Fear. And they kept getting assigned together--because when they were on form, they were seamless and pretty much unstoppable.”

“How much of their reputation was exaggerated?” High Command had kept Luke’s name out of things as much as possible, after the Death Star--for his safety, mostly--but word had spread, and some of the base gossip Luke had half-heard was sort of true, and some of it was just _ridiculous._

And that was just the rumors about _him._ Anyone who’d done something impressive enough to be known outside their own team--let alone to get a _nickname_ \--got stories. Luke only trusted about a third of what people said about Han, and while he had a little more faith in _Leia’s_ reputation…

Then again, there _was_ at least a little truth in all of it.

“Not a lot,” Rex said. “…well, I mean, they were people, not minor gods, and the ‘Net seemed to forget that sometimes. But I told you about how your father would rush headlong into danger and never give up, how he’d take on the hardest tasks and somehow get us through. He wasn’t much for bluffing or long-range strategy, but if you had a tight spot with long odds, he was _exactly_ the general you wanted on the ground. He thought fast and never gave up. And as for Kenobi--he was better at taking the long view, and could almost always find a back way to what he wanted or needed to accomplish. He knew when to strike and when to stall, and he could talk just about anyone into anything, given time--including Skywalker at his most stubborn,” he added, with a wry smile. “Which was _not_ easy, believe me.”

“And they were friends?” Luke said.

“Yes,” Rex said. “I said Commander Tano was like the General’s little sister--Kenobi was somewhere between a father and an older brother to the two of them.”

Luke thought about that for a minute. “I’d...like to know more about them,” he said. “If you have other stories?”

“Sure, I’ve got a bunch,” Rex said. “Three years’ worth, give or take. But if you want to know how they were off-duty…”

“I do,” he said, leaning forward just a little.

“It’s not…really a story, exactly?” Rex said. He leaned on his hand, frowning slightly. “Not like what I told you before.”

“I’d still like to hear it, if you don’t mind?” Luke said.

When it came down to it, the problem was that Luke didn’t actually _know_ all that much about his father--he had a name, and the few half-truths and outright lies that Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru and Ben had told him.

And the one fact Vader had shared.

And that was…pretty much it.

It occurred, sitting here across from one of his father’s closest friends, that for all of Luke’s life, Anakin Skywalker had been almost a complete _unknown._ He’d been a mystery, then a myth, and now a monster.

But buried somewhere under all of that, under the conflicting stories, was an actual _person._ There _had_ to be. If Luke could find the man that tied them all together, maybe in Rex’s memories, maybe _then_ he’d be able to make sense of everything. Come to some kind of peace with what he’d learned.

And what Rex was offering here, snippets of what he was like when he _wasn’t_ flying or fighting--maybe _that_ was the piece of the puzzle he was missing--behind all the lies and half-truths. Hard to find out who Anakin Skywalker really _was,_ before he--

He couldn’t get that just from war stories and Ben’s shadowed memories.

“He’s sort of a…ghost,” Luke said. “In my mind, I mean. And I’d like to…I want to know who he was. As a person.”

“Makes sense,” Rex said, then considered the deck of cards in his hand. “…like I said, this isn’t a real story, but I remember one night, probably not long after Commander Tano joined us. Could’ve been any of a number of nights, honestly, but here’s what springs to mind…”


	4. Chapter 4

Rex had lost track of how many planets and environments they’d fought their way through over the past week or two--they’d blurred together among short hops on the _Resolute_ from one battle to the next, an hour or two at the most in between, deploy, hike through miles of hostile territory, fight, evac, and on to the next one before they had much more than a chance to catch their breath.

If that.

But now they had a solid eighteen hours in hyperspace until they reached their next staging point, and General Skywalker had given very strict orders to the men to let the Navy officers do their jobs and get some sleep and/or decompress in whatever way worked best for them. In more or less those exact words.

That had been seven hours ago, and while Rex had managed to doze a little bit, he’d been staring at the ceiling for a while now, and figured it was better to find something else to occupy himself for a little bit. Maybe get something to eat--he’d decided to sleep first, when they’d gotten back onboard; maybe that had been a mistake.

He wasn’t surprised to find the mess partially occupied--a few of the troopers, like him, would’ve tried to sleep first before getting food. Or were too keyed up to sleep right away and hadn’t quite gotten around to it yet.

 _...caf is the_ last _thing I need right now,_ he thought, when he found himself in front of a hot drink dispenser, but-- _Chocolate! Kriffing hell, we haven’t had that in_ ages…

He fixed himself a cup, then turned back to survey the mess, try and find a place to sit.

Not that there was any lack of empty seats, but it was more a matter of who he might want to sit with, or if he’d go for solitude for the time being. There were clusters of men scattered here and there at the tables--eating, playing cards or dice; one group around a HoloNet transceiver listening to whatever the latest fad game on Chandrilla was. Must’ve been an exciting one; they seemed pretty focused.

And there was one face that stood out--Commander Tano was sitting on the back of a chair at one of the corner tables, playing cards with Echo and Fives.

“I think I won again,” the Commander said, showing her hand just as Rex wandered over to join them.

 _Again?_ Rex thought, biting back a smile. _Well, at least they’re only playing for--I have no idea_ where _they got that pile of sweets, but that keeps it all in good fun._

Fives leaned over to study her hand, then gave a dramatic sigh. “That’s the fourth time in a row, Commander. You’re getting good at this.”

She flashed them a benevolent, if slightly pointy, smile, and pulled the pile of candy over to herself. “Want to play again? Captain, are you joining us?”

“Sure,” he said, nudging Echo over and sliding in next to him.

“Awesome,” she said, and shoved a handful of candy over at him. “Here.”

“We playing just standard rules?” he asked, while Echo gathered up the cards to deal again.

“Yep,” Fives said. “Figured that was a better way to start the Commander off.”

Rex glanced over at her; she had her most innocent expression on and he didn’t believe it for one second. Come to think of it, hadn’t he seen her and General Kenobi playing just a few weeks back…?

Then again, if Fives or Echo hadn’t spotted it--well, let this be a lesson to their ARC troopers, not to take things at face value. And to pay a little closer attention.

“Seems reasonable,” he said, blandly, taking a sip of his hot chocolate before scooping up his cards.

Of course, they only got halfway through the hand before--

“Snips? What are you doing up?”

General Skywalker, while not exactly known for being subtle, _was_ able to sneak up on people when he really wanted. He had a smear of motor oil on one cheek--most likely, he’d been down in the hangar, working on one or more of the ships. _Probably_ since they’d gotten back, even, if Rex knew his General’s habits.

“I could ask you the same question,” Commander Tano said, with a pointed look at the mug he was holding. By the smell of it, he’d made a far less sensible choice than Rex had.

“Yes, but I’m the master and you’re the Padawan, so you don’t get to,” he said, nudging her--she rolled her eyes and dropped into the actual chair, rather than perching on the back--and took a seat beside her. “What are you playing?”

“Fives and Echo were teaching me how to play sabaac,” she said, eyes wide and innocent.

“Were they, now,” Skywalker said, taking another sip of his caf to hide his smile.

“I think you’ve won this hand, too, Commander,” Echo said. “Or at least I’m out.” He set his cards down.

“Rex? Fives?” Ahsoka said.

Rex’s own hand was terrible, but he wasn’t really playing to win. More to pass the time and unwind a little bit. “Eh, I’ll stay in,” he said, tossing another piece of candy onto the pile.

“Might as well,” Fives said, matching him.

Skywalker just sighed into his caf.

“What?” Fives said, and then the Commander laid down her cards, grinning at them again. “Really, sir?”

“Yeah,” Echo said. “Commander’s pretty good at this. Some kind of beginner’s luck, I guess.”

“Or a Jedi trick,” Fives said, giving her a slightly-suspicious look that he absolutely didn’t mean.

Commander Tano, playing into it, made a valiant attempt to seem highly affronted and _mostly_ pulled it off. “I would _never!”_

“Oh, I think it’s more a regular trick,” another familiar voice said from behind the Commander.

_Speaking of people sneaking up out of nowhere--_

“Does _no one_ on this ship sleep when I tell them to?” Skywalker complained, as General Kenobi took a seat on Echo’s other side.

Technically, Kenobi had his own flagship, of course, but he still found his way over to the _Resolute_ as often as not.

“Well, people do tend to follow the example of the senior officers,” Kenobi said, mildly.

“Hey, no need to bring Yularen into this, he’s very sensible.”

“Anakin, when was the last time _you_ slept?”

Skywalker just rolled his eyes and muttered something uncomplimentary under his breath.

“In any case,” Kenobi said, settling himself into a seat on Skywalker’s other side, “Ahsoka asked me to teach her sabaac six months ago. I’m afraid, gentlemen, that you’ve been played.”

The Commander stuck her tongue out at him. “Ruin all my fun,” she said.

He just raised one eyebrow at her.

“Hm, I think he’s got you there, Snips,” Skywalker said, taking another sip of his caf, and ducking when she swatted at him.

“Then again, I suppose it is gratifying to see you actually learned some level of subtlety,” Kenobi said; his face very stern but Rex could hear the smile in his voice. “Though you _could_ apply it a little better.”

“True,” she said. “But, on the other hand, shouldn’t I practice in a low-stakes setting? For candy?”

“I’ll concede the low-stakes practice argument, perhaps,” Kenobi said. “Since everyone does seem to be having fun still. And I _am_ impressed that you pulled it off, unlike certain persons at this table.”

“Hey!” Skywalker said.

“Well, subtlety isn’t exactly your strong point, Master,” Commander Tano said.

“Rude.” He made a face at her

“You have many talents, Anakin,” Kenobi said, soothingly. “Subtlety, alas, is not among them.”

Skywalker made a rude gesture at him. “Well, if you all want to play sabaac, I’ll watch, at least.”

“It’s getting late for that,” Echo said. “Don’t think any of us have slept yet--sorry, sir--and Commander Tano’s got almost all the candy anyway.”

“Yeah, fair,” Commander Tano said, and yawned, as if reminded by Echo’s comment. “...ooh, we could play womprat instead! It takes way less focus and absolutely zero subtlety.”

“Absolutely _not,”_ Kenobi said. “No games involving slapping the deck when we’re all this sleep deprived.”

“I somehow feel like that was directed at me,” Skywalker said, thoughtfully. “But I think I can magnetize the arm, stick it to the table--”

 _“No,”_ Kenobi said, firmly. “Last time, broken fingers were involved. We are _not_ doing that again.”

“Fine, fine,” Skywalker said, as Commander Tano leaned against him.

Rex gave her about thirty seconds before she was out completely, however much she’d suggested a game like womprat. In all likelihood, she’d brought it up in the first place to keep herself awake through the adrenaline involved, and, failing that…

He wasn’t sure how they did it, but both she and General Skywalker had learned how to fall asleep in moments, in the most awkward position. Served them well in the field, and was mostly--for lack of a better word-- _cute_ when they were off duty.

And, sure enough, Skywalker made a face and shifted Commander Tano just slightly on his shoulder, so her montrals weren’t poking him in the throat. “Maybe a quieter game, if you all are still up for it.”

“You don’t want to move her somewhere more comfortable?” Kenobi asked in an undertone.

“Nah, she’s fine where she is,” he said. “We’ve slept in weirder places, you know that.” He paused, glancing down at his cup. “...although if one of you could get me more caf…”

“Not a chance,” Kenobi said. “You’ve had enough.”

Skywalker rolled his eyes, but didn’t argue the point. “Anyway, looks like I’ll be here for a while...someone want to deal me in to whatever we _are_ playing next?”

“Sure,” Echo said, shuffling the cards. “...Sevens Wild?”

“A good choice,” Kenobi said. “I’ll play a round or two.”

Rex caught General Kenobi’s eye across the table and--yeah, now that he was out of caf, he gave Skywalker probably an hour before he joined his apprentice. But this would keep him occupied and quiet until he did, at least.

“Sure,” Rex said.

“Eh, why not,” Fives said.

“Sounds like fun,” Skywalker added, shifting Commander Tano again. She didn’t stir. “Deal me in, let’s go.”

Echo smiled and shuffled the deck one more time before dealing out the cards. Rex relaxed a little, keeping one hand on the cooling mug of chocolate, and made a quick wish that they could have many more nights like this in the future.

And even if he knew that wasn’t likely--well, for tonight, at least, it was easy enough to hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Womprat here being a standin for Egyptian Ratscrew/Ratslap; Sevens Wild stands in for Crazy Eights.


	5. Chapter 5

Commander Skywalker was in the shooting range when Rex got there--possibly just practicing, but more likely logging what he needed to get himself officially restored to active-duty status.

Not that Rex expected a delay in the paperwork to  _ keep _ Skywalker grounded if he felt he really  _ needed _ to be elsewhere--he was enough like his father for that--but as long as he didn’t, he’d probably want to go through the motions, at least. Just in case.

Skywalker paused and lowered his blaster. “Hey, Captain--I think I’ve gone over my time, but I’m almost done?”

_ Yep. Recertifying. _

He shook his head. “Take your time, sir,” he said. “I’m not scheduled for another hour, just figured I’d get in early to set up since no one else was on the roster.”

Skywalker nodded. “Set up for what?”

“New recruits,” he said. “Someone’s gotta make sure they can hit the broad side of a building before we unleash them. Or at least that they won’t hit each other.”

“Right,” he said, with a small grin. “And you got the assignment?”

“Volunteered, actually,” Rex said. He did that a lot, these days--clones aged fast, and he was probably approaching the end of his shelf life, so to speak, far as active combat missions went. If not already past it--some mornings certainly felt that way.

Not that he’d let that stop him, of course, if it was important enough, but for the most part, it was best for him to stay behind as a training officer. Draw on his experience to keep the shinies from getting themselves killed.

“Right,” he said again. “Well, like I said, I’m almost done here, but I can help you set up after, if you’d like?”

“I’d appreciate that, sir,” he said.

Skywalker nodded again, then turned back to his target. “You know,” he said, after firing a couple shots, “you can call me Luke if you want. I mean, I know I technically outrank you, but…”

And Skywalker-- _ this _ Skywalker--was probably a Jedi like his father, but he wasn’t one of  _ Rex’s _ Jedi, so…well, he probably  _ could. _ But his mind  _ resisted _ the notion anyway. Maybe just because this Skywalker shared the name and eyes of his General.

Rex honestly wasn’t sure whether it would make the weird place his brain got to, sometimes, talking to the kid, if he added that extra layer of distance between the two. Either way, it was hard to take that first step.

“Right,” Rex said.

Skywalker finished emptying his clip, then turned to Rex again, a silent question.

“…it’s sort of complicated,” Rex said. “We didn’t--us clones, we generally weren’t on that kind of first-name basis with our commanders. And it hasn’t really been much of a thing for me since--” the scar on his scalp itched a little “--but…”

“But I have his name,” Skywalker finished for him.

“Yeah, more or less,” Rex said.

“Well, call me whatever makes you feel most comfortable,” he decided, then put the blaster away. “Okay, what do you need me to set up?”

“Right,” he said. “Targets over there, while I pull out the guns I need?”

“Sure,” Skywalker said, and started getting things loaded up. “...did you ever do this kind of thing with my father? Set up for training drills?”

“Nah, not really,” Rex said. “I mean, we’d drill together sometimes, when we had time, but it wasn’t this basic level. Hand-to-hand sparring, mostly.”

Skywalker considered that for a minute, then joined him at the weapons’ case. “Last time we talked, you told me a little bit about how--how time between missions worked.”

“Yeah?” Rex glanced down at him, setting a half-dozen rifles out to start checking them. “I don’t have a lot of time, but if you want another story like that…”

“Kind of,” Skywalker said. “But…” He took a breath. “If this is too much, let me know, but--I’ve talked to other people who lived through the Clone War, and I just want to know…”

“What he was like more towards the end?” Rex asked.

“Yeah.”

He thought about that. “It did get harder,” he said. “I’m not gonna pretend it didn’t. We lost a lot, as much as we gained. But your father--I mean, I won’t pretend it didn’t change him. It changed all of us. I thought we’d grow up together, when we met, and I was kind of right, but in ways I didn’t...really anticipate.”

Skywalker looked up at him, uncertain and something else Rex couldn’t quite name.

He wasn’t all that sure he  _ should _ go into this. Their own war was hard enough, he didn’t think  _ this _ Skywalker needed to know how much the last one had weighed down on his father.

Then again…

Then again, he’d asked. And--well, who was Rex to decide what parts of his father Luke Skywalker got to know? If he’d decided to share his stories, did he really have any right to keep any back? Even the sadder ones?

_...maybe hold off on the Rako Hardeen mess, though, _ Rex thought.  _ That wasn’t a good week for  _ anyone. _ And probably not--probably not the bombing, Commander Tano’s trial;  _ definitely  _ not that awful mess on Zygerria… _

But there were a few, that were maybe not quite so bad as that, but still gave a fuller picture than sticking only to the better moments. It wasn’t even really a  _ bad _ one, compared to some Rex could think of, just--bleak.

But that was war, wasn’t it.

“...there was one time,” Rex said. “It wasn’t really downtime, exactly--we’d stopped on a long march. Maybe that’ll give you some idea of what it was like in those days…”


	6. Chapter 6

It was local dusk, and they’d been inching along through thick, clinging mud for near a standard day; and it was maybe not the  _ worst _ trek Rex had faced, but it probably made the top twenty. Maybe even ten. The mud was hip-deep in places, and if it weren’t for Skywalker up ahead, strategically carving out handholds and placing spikes wherever the ground was even halfway solid enough to support them, he was pretty sure they’d’ve lost at least a half-dozen men in the muck.

But they’d made as good time as could be expected, and they were finally approaching a stretch of rocky foothills, which would lift them out of the mud. And beyond that range was their actual target--a factory responsible for building a good chunk of the Separatist tanks in use in this sector. Nice, straightforward mission--get in, destroy the factory, get out. This was exactly what they all needed right now. Simple and clean.

Apart from the kriffing  _ mud, _ at least. Tail end of the rainy season-- _ clearly, _ the best possible conditions to launch a ground strike across an eroded plain that was a thick forest half a generation ago and hadn’t yet adjusted.

Then again, it  _ wasn’t _ the worst hike Rex had had, and the mission had to get completed, and waiting for better weather just meant more tanks shooting at them in the meantime.

Speaking of weather, though…

Up ahead, Skywalker had come to a stop, frowning up at the sky. Which was growing darker by the minute.

And much faster than it had the previous night.

_ Kriff. As if this place needs more rain. _

Rex picked up his pace as best he could, slogging through the last dozen meters of mud to stand at his General’s left side; avoided looking at the empty spot on his right.

Because it wasn’t like Commander Tano had  _ always  _ stood there--often as not, she’d moved up and down the column, unless the General had needed her in the van with him. But, maybe because her departure was still so raw, even weeks later, and the General had been quiet, and moody even for him…

It  _ felt _ empty nonetheless.

“Sir?” he asked, when Skywalker didn’t acknowledge him.

“Storm,” the General replied, grimly. “There’s a cave system in the mountains we can shelter in, but we need to move faster.”

“Mud’s slowing us down.”

“I know,” he said. “I’ll see if I can shove any of it out of the way.”

Rex nodded, and looked over at the mountains. He adjusted a few settings on his HUD until he could see the cave mouth the General was talking about. He grimaced. “Doesn’t look like there’s a back way out.”

“I  _ know,” _ Skywalker snapped, then took a breath, let it out slowly. “But even if the droids are out in this kriffing mess--we can fight  _ them. _ We can’t fight a karking mudslide.”

“Yes, sir,” Rex said, because he had a point. “I’ll pass the order down.”

“You do that,” he said. “Let me know when you’re ready, and I’ll clear a path. Don’t think I can hold it for long.”

Rex nodded again, and slogged back to the others, passing orders through the helmet comm as he went.

He signaled the General when everyone was on board, and Skywalker knelt in the mud and closed his eyes.

There was a slight sucking sensation as the mud slid to the side, drawing away from the mens’ boots and clearing a path of semi-solid ground towards the cave.

“Go!” he ordered through the comms, and got moving as fast as he could.

It took maybe ten minutes to cross ground that would’ve taken at least an hour before Skywalker cleared it for them; no sooner had the General stood up that the mud slammed back into place with an audible  _ plop. _

And then, with karking  _ perfect _ timing, the skies opened up and a torrential rain pounded down over them.

“Hurry!” Skywalker shouted, just barely audible over the wind and rain, as they made their way to the cave entrance--

\--and were greeted by a hail of blaster bolts.

Skywalker launched himself forward, spinning his blade as he went and deflecting as many of the bolts as he could. Rex switched filters on his helmet to get a better idea of the situation--just a small scouting party; a dozen standard-issue clankers and two supers, no destroyers or tanks or anything else fancy; taking shelter from the rain just like they’d planned to.

“Fourteen,” he called into the comms. “Watch footing on the hill and advance.”

It was brutal and messy fighting--outnumbered as they were, the droids had the tactical advantage--but it still didn’t take long before the cave was theirs.

“Dry off, clean up, get rations,” Skywalker instructed, as he found a place to sit off to one side. His deactivated ‘saber was held loosely in his left hand, and he had his right arm curled against his chest.

“Sir?” Rex said.

“Prosthetic got hit,” Skywalker said. “My fault, I wasn’t-- _ kriff.”  _ He jerked a little, dropping his lightsaber.

“Sir?”

Skywalker didn’t answer him right away, yanking off the damaged bulking glove. There was a ragged star scorched into the side of the mech arm, which was setting off sparks. Skywalker jerked again, then shook his head, fumbling to remove a panel on one side.

“Can I help?” Rex said.

“Yellow wire,” Skywalker said, through gritted teeth.  _ “Pull it.” _

He didn’t need to be told twice. “This one?”

_ “Yes!” _

Rex yanked it, and Skywalker relaxed slightly, his right arm going completely still. “Sir?”

“Sorry,” he said. “Shouldn’t’ve snapped. There was a short, kept shocking me. I can fix it now.”

“Right,” Rex said. “Should I get Kix?”

“No,” Skywalker said. “Like I said, just the mech’s damaged. I can fix it. Any casualties?”

“No, sir,” Rex said. “Couple minor grazes, but nothing we need to worry about.”

“Good,” he said, then took a breath. “Like I said. You know what to do--we’ll be here a couple hours or so, ‘til the storm blows itself out. I’m gonna work on this.”

“Understood,” Rex said, but made a mental note to brief Kix anyway, just in case.

* * *

It took maybe a half-hour to get everyone settled and assign watches. Rex grabbed a couple extra ration bars and went to report in to the General, knowing he probably wouldn’t’ve bothered to eat and would need an update, anyway.

Only, of course, Skywalker was otherwise occupied--despite the interference from the storm, he’d somehow managed to get a reasonably clear call out to General Kenobi, or receive one coming in.

“It won’t be much longer,” Kenobi was saying. “A few more months, perhaps, but things are winding down. I’m sure of it.”

“Yeah,” Skywalker said, then muttered, not quite under his breath, “but how long have we been saying that?”

General Kenobi sighed. “Anakin…”

“Sorry,” he said, looking up. “I know, I know. It’s just...a lot of mud. Bad day. Bad rain. Sorry.”

“All right,” he said, face softening a little, then shifted his tone to lighten the mood. “I recall a time when you insisted there was no such thing.”

Skywalker laughed a little. “That was a long time ago, Master.”

“True,” Kenobi said. “But look at it this way--you might’ve been sent to Jakku instead.”

He made a face. “Your point is taken,” he said. “And you’re right. We won’t be stuck down  _ here _ for much longer, at least.” He shifted something on his arm and hissed faintly.

“Everything all right?” General Kenobi asked, his voice tinny through the comm’s speakers, but clearly full of concern.

“‘Course it is,” Skywalker said. “You know me. I’m fine.”

“Yes, I  _ do _ know you,” he said, and folded his arms, watching Skywalker with one eyebrow raised.

It didn’t take long for him to cave. “Got shot,” he admitted. “Luckily it was my decoy. Mech arm. It’s fine, I can fix it. Just...frustrating.”

“Right,” Kenobi said. “...do you have time? You must be nearly there by now.”

No question of whether or not Skywalker could manage the repairs while hiking; he’d done it before--though, admittedly, not when the arm was  _ this _ badly damaged.

Skywalker made a face. “We’re still a ways away. Had to stop and seek shelter. Storm blew in, too much risk of mudslide. Haven’t left the cave yet, so.”

Kenobi’s tiny hologram nodded, and sighed. “Can’t be helped, I suppose.”

“No.”

“Well, you’ll be through it soon enough, I’m sure.”

“Yeah,” he said; turned his attention back to his arm and swore when it sent up sparks.

“Anakin, are you  _ sure  _ you’re--”

“I know what I’m doing, Master,” Skywalker interrupted. “Anyway, the storm should blow itself out in an hour or so, then we can take another look and get a better estimate on timing. I don’t know if we’ll manage to hit the factory tomorrow, depends on how the passes look. But the day after, assuming no further delays.”

“Right,” he said. “Well, when you’re through, we’ll rendezvous at Sullust.”

Skywalker blinked and looked up from his arm again. “Sullust?”

“Plans have changed,” Kenobi said, then hesitated a moment before adding, “we  _ may _ be heading to Mandalore from there.”

Skywalker paused, left hand going completely still. “Mandalore?”

“Anakin,” Kenobi said, reprovingly. “Keep your focus where it belongs.”

“I’m plenty focused,” Skywalker said.

Both Jedi were quiet for a moment, but this time, Kenobi was the one who caved; he simply sighed again, choosing not to try and out-stubborn Skywalker on this one. “You know me.”

“Yeah, I do,” Skywalker said, but he went back to working on his arm. “So, Mandalore.”

“It may not happen, anyway,” Kenobi said. “I think there’s still some back and forth going on between the Council and the Chancellor and Bo-Katan Kryze. But I’ll know for sure by the time you join me at Sullust.”

“Copy that,” Skywalker said.

“I should let you get back to work,” Kenobi said. “May the Force be with you, old friend. I’ll see you in a few days.”

“Same to you, Master,” Skywalker said. “See you at Sullust.”

General Kenobi’s small figure leaned forward, and the transmission dissolved.

Rex waited half a second before approaching--maintaining, he hoped, a polite illusion that he hadn’t been eavesdropping. “Sir?”

“We’re set?” Skywalker asked, without calling him on it, so there was that.

“Yeah,” Rex said. “Ready to move out again on your order.” He tossed one of the ration bars, which hit Skywalker in the side of the head.

_ “Kriffing--” _ Skywalker picked it up. “...thanks.”

“Of course, sir,” he said. “I’ll be nearby, if you need anything.”

“I know,” he said. “Thanks, Rex.”

“Sir,” he said, then retreated to give him space to work.


	7. Chapter 7

_ “We didn’t go to Mandalore just then--not until a couple months later,” _ Rex had finished.  _ “But when we did get there, we met up with Commander Tano and it was...nice. Almost all of us being back together again, at least for a little while. But that--Mandalore, I mean--was the last time I saw your father or General Kenobi.” _

_ “Do you--do you know what happened to him?” _

As soon as he’d said it, Luke had wished he could take it back.  _ Obviously, _ Captain Rex didn’t know. Luke had never gotten the impression he was lying, the way Ben had, and the way he talked about Anakin Skywalker…there was no  _ way _ he knew what kind of monster his General had become.

(Luke had actually considered telling him, at first--on the one hand, he’d needed to tell  _ someone, _ to not be the only one carrying this burden; and besides, maybe Rex had a right to the truth, just the same as  _ he  _ had.

Or maybe he’d just…not wanted to be the only one to have all his illusions shattered in a moment. And doing that to Rex would’ve been  _ cruel. _

So Luke had held his peace, and let Captain Rex keep his memories, untainted by what happened  _ after _ the last time he and Anakin Skywalker had met.)

Rex had looked away.  _ “Like I said. I wasn’t…with him, at the end,”  _ he’d said, after a long silence.  _ “I stayed on Mandalore with Commander Tano. But…as far as I know, he died in the Temple, with the others.” _ He’d cleared his throat.  _ “Sorry. That part--that’s not a story I want to tell.” _

_ “Of course,” _ Luke had said.  _ “I’m sorry.” _

_ “Don’t be,” _ Rex had said.  _ “I get that you wanna know. Just...anyway, I have to finish setting up.” _

_ “Right. I’ll get out of your hair, then.” _

That had been three days ago, and he hadn’t seen Rex since. But Luke was officially restored to active-duty status, which meant he had to prep for Tatooine, and rescuing Han.

(Not that he’d planned on waiting much longer even if he  _ hadn’t _ gotten all the official paperwork on file, but it was nicer this way. Fewer people would be upset.)

Leia had gone ahead of him, setting out twelve hours ago in her established bounty-hunter cover identity. As for Luke, all he had to do now was finish loading his X-wing and go. He had clearance to depart in an hour, which would be a  _ little _ tight, but he should make it.

“Commander Skywalker?”

Luke paused, halfway through loading up his emergency medkit, and turned to see Captain Rex striding across the hangar in his direction.

“Hey,” he said, balancing the pack on the wing and climbing back down to the ground. “Something wrong?”

“No, nothing’s wrong,” he said. “But I saw you were cleared to depart, and I wanted to try and catch you before you left. I finally found this, and--well, I thought I’d pass it along.” He held out an old holodisk.

Luke blinked and took it from him. “Thanks,” he said, and hit the button to activate it.

It may have been older than he thought--probably at least fifteen years, maybe even as old as  _ he _ was--and took a few seconds to boot up. But finally, with one last burst of static, the dim blue glow resolved into a man, about Luke’s age or maybe a couple years younger, with shaggy dark-blond hair and a scar over one eye.

Maybe it was from Captain Rex’s stories, or maybe something he sensed, something harder to define, but he  _ knew _ who that was.

This was his father, before he became Vader.

For the first time, Luke actually got to  _ see _ his father.

He barely registered the words as the hologram took out a lightsaber--the one Luke had carried for three years and then lost at Cloud City--and began demonstrating a series of postures and other techniques for his unseen audience.

His voice was lighter than Luke had expected.

For the first time, Luke was hearing his father’s unaltered  _ voice. _

He didn’t--he didn’t quite know  _ what _ he was feeling now, other than...other than a profound sense of  _ loss. _ And whether that was from Rex or from him…he didn’t know. He just didn’t know.

Neither of them said anything, letting the recording play all the way through.

“He made that for Commander Tano,” Rex said quietly, when it was done. “Pretty early on, I think. She held on to it, gave it to Ezra Bridger years ago. When he--when we lost him, it found its way back to me. And I thought you should have it. That he’d…that he’d want you to have it. If he couldn’t be here himself.”

Luke’s wrist burned in a way it hadn’t in weeks.

“Thank you,” he finally said, closing his hand over the recording. “I really…thank you.”

“Of course,” Captain Rex said.

Luke realized he’d been standing there, clinging to the recording, for a good minute, without saying anything. “Uh. Right. I should…”

“Of course,” Rex said again. “You’re headed for Tatooine, right?”

“Yeah,” Luke said. “It’s all right, I grew up there, I know my way around.”

He nodded. “Well, good luck to you, anyway. I’ll let you finish your prep--and, if you like, when you get back, I’ve got more stories to share?”

Luke thought about it for a moment, then nodded. “I’d appreciate that,” he said, and offered Rex his hand.

Rex grasped it tight, briefly. “See you when you get back, Commander,” he said.

“I will,” Luke promised. “May the Force be with you.”

Rex nodded, then turned and headed back to whatever he’d been doing before, leaving Luke alone with his X-wing and supplies and the recording.

He realized he was still staring at the disk; he shook his head, stuck it in his pocket, and went back to loading up, but it wouldn’t quite leave his mind.

It was...hard, trying to reconcile the man from Rex’s stories, from that recording, with the monster Luke had fought on Cloud City.

Not because he didn’t  _ believe _ it--he knew what Vader had told him was true, and he knew what Rex had told him was true. Maybe a little misremembered, but not a lie, or even really exaggerated.

He just…couldn’t quite draw the line connecting them. Couldn’t find that thread. It was buried, probably in some story Rex didn’t know.

_ What would I  _ do _ with it, even if I could? _ he wondered.  _ It’s not like I could pull it and just… _ make _ him Anakin Skywalker again. _

He paused, a box of emergency rations half-out of the storage space.

_ …would it be such a bad idea to  _ try?

As soon as he had the thought, he knew it was. If he didn’t handle Vader--his father-- _ Vader _ right, it wouldn’t be just his hand that he lost this time. Everything Master Yoda and Ben had said on Dagobah, the  _ consequences _ of failure, if he didn’t approach this with an  _ absolute _ commitment…all of  _ that _ was true.

Even if they’d lied about other things.

Then again…

Other people had come back, hadn’t they? Switched sides? Seen the light, as Rex put it? Maybe not from quite as  _ far, _ but they had. Look at Captain Kallus. Or General Madine, or a dozen others he could mention.

_ That thread  _ is _ there. Somewhere.  _ Something _ connects the mystery and the myth and the monster to the man behind them. Even if Vader’s buried it so deep that I can’t really see it yet. Even if  _ he’s _ not interested in looking. _

_ And if I  _ do _ find it… _

As awful as the consequences for failure were,  _ that _ was something to think about.

Slowly, he pushed the box into place, and shut the hatch behind it.

_ I can’t control his choices, _ he thought.  _ And there are too many missing pieces for me to predict what they’ll be. But…but if I start here, if I start by reaching out, by trying to  _ make _ that connection… _

He thought about the man smiling in the recording. The man Rex had described to him over the past few weeks, in bits and pieces. The man that even Ben had called a good friend, long ago.

The overall impression Luke got was that--Anakin Skywalker had been an intense, passionate man, who never did anything by halves. Who loved his friends and fought for them, as hard as he could. Who got harder and more bitter as war and loss weighed on him, but still found time to worry about and banter with his friends. Who still found  _ some _ shred of hope to cling to.

Until  _ something _ changed, and it seemed that all that was left of him was that burning intensity, with nothing good left to fuel it, only the loss.

Except Luke couldn’t quite believe that. Couldn’t  _ quite _ believe that the man who had flung his captain off a tower to save him; who had played cards with his men and drunk way too much caffeine and let his surrogate little sister fall asleep on his shoulder; who had found time in a miserable muddy mess to check in with the people he loved…

Luke  _ couldn’t _ believe that all shreds of that man were gone forever.

_ And could I live with myself if I  _ don’t _ try? _

The answer to  _ that _ was almost as immediate as the other.

_ I can’t control his choices. But I  _ can _ control mine. Vader may have burned his bridges a long time ago, but somewhere in there is a path that led from Anakin Skywalker to--to where he is now. There’s a chance--a small one, maybe, but a  _ chance _ \--that I can find it. And I have to try. I  _ have _ to. _

_ Okay. So--I go back home to Tatooine, I help Lando and Leia get Han back from Jabba, and then…wait. We’ll meet again sooner or later,  _ that  _ much I know is inevitable. He was right about one thing, I can’t escape my destiny. But it doesn’t have to mean what  _ he _ thinks it does. _

_ And when it comes...when it comes, trust the Force, and try to find that thread. Give my father a chance. Because the man in Rex’s stories--he deserves that. The people who loved him deserve it, too. _

It was reckless, probably stupid, but it  _ felt _ right.

In any case, he had half a plan, a faint thread to follow, and  _ hope-- _ and maybe, just maybe, that would be enough.


End file.
